


L’appel Du Vide

by Myrtilla



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drugged Sex, Hannigram - Freeform, Ladder Scene, M/M, Obsessive Hannibal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personal obsession with that oh so useful ladder, Possessive Behavior, i'm so sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:58:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrtilla/pseuds/Myrtilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is not a man above exploiting vulnerabilities as he pleases</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Brain: Hey, you know what you should do?  
> Me: What?  
> Brain: Post that Hannigram fic  
> Me: No!  
> Brain: Why not? You know you want to  
> Me: I promised myself I'd never actually write that pairing. Hasn't Will suffered enough already?!  
> Brain: Yeah, you're right. Just kidding, you already posted it
> 
> Hey guys :) This is the first time I've been confident enough to post Hannigram so please try not to judge me to harshly. I never actually intended to write this fic, kind of just happened *looks around hopefully in case anyone else can understand the feeling*

By this point Hannibal was quite accustomed to Will’s restlessness during sessions but he could see the weariness creeping into his stance.

It had been almost three months since Jack Crawford had approached him for a profile of his ‘complicated’ colleague. The information Crawford had given him had been intriguing enough for him to agree to a meeting. However, he was more than mildly surprised at his continued interest in the younger man after barely two minutes in his presence. It was alarming on its own how tolerant he found himself of the minor offences and lack of social etiquette of their earliest sessions, avoiding his questions and eye contact. Will’s blunt dismissal of his own veiled overtures- _I don’t find you that interesting_ -should have been more than enough to warrant notation in his rolodex. Instead Hannibal found himself not only indolent but facing a minor challenge he fully intended to win.

Crawford’s continuing appreciation for his opinion sanctioned regular visits to Quantico to observe the discussions in the morgue and listen from the back of the hall as Will lectured. Listening to Will’s description of the shrike’s copycat was intoxicating both in its accuracy and the rustic yet poetic tempo of the delivery.

He would be lying to deny a fraction of his mind feeling mildly concerned however, the premeditated likelihood that Will would eventually perceive the monster standing beside him through all the rest, was more intriguing than it was a threat. It was delightfully ironic that the single individual most alike to him and perhaps capable of understanding him, was a man such as Will. So different to him on a surface level and still clinging to the restricting morals of the sheep and pigs he tried so desperately to protect rather than embrace the darkness coiled just beneath his skin. That beautiful, abnormal mind able to see and understand in a way that other so called experts in human behaviour would always ultimately fail to grasp. The fact that the external packaging was just as appealing in other regards.

Hannibal had never considered himself to be a man who succumbed to basic urges beyond the satisfaction of converting lesser creatures into delectable masterpieces. He could not deny the amusement of watching Baltimore’s elite class unknowingly devour human flesh in between sips of vintage wine. The doctor’s logical mind understood that judging by his chosen pastimes he was insane. Even Will’s description of the man he still knew only as the Chesapeake Ripper included the label psychopath. A shame of course, but only time and carefully laid plans would tell.

Seated on the edge of his desk he watched Will pace, filling the gaps in his speech with reassurances that probably didn’t reach the other man anymore.

“I know what kind of crazy I am, and this isn't that kind of crazy.”

Hannibal curled his lip between his teeth, projecting careful hesitation before replying. “I’m unsure what to call this anymore, Will.”

The younger man paused, one hand resting on a rung of the bookshelf ladder and dragging the other tiredly through his hair.    

“But if it isn't physiological, then you have to accept what you're struggling with is mental illness.”

Will’s shoulders tensed visibly at the words, no doubt having heard them thrown around carelessly in the past in jest and only now with seemingly genuine concern. His eyes slid shut as he leant back against the ladder, hands falling loosely to his sides when they had been gesturing wildly moments before.

The concerned expression slipped cleanly off Hannibal's features to be replaced by a small smile. He allowed himself a moment to silently admire before standing, steady practiced steps making next to no noise on the carpet. While forever a man of patience his reserve was running thin in waiting for Will to come willingly to him. Perhaps all that was needed was a push in the right direction…

Despite the initial waste of that fascinating mind slowly deteriorating, there was something almost deliciously tempting about his empath in the present moment. So close to broken in the mental and psychical sense, holding onto reality by frayed seems.

The heady sweetness of encephalitis was growing more pronounced. He inclined his head slightly as he breathed it in a deeper, grateful that with the turmoil of Will’s mind of late he hadn’t found the time to shave.

Will didn’t acknowledge his proximity until he felt a warm brush of air against his throat. An exhale… He opened his eyes, startled to find the doctor so close.

“Did you just…” Will trailed off as a gentle hand settled against his jawline, tilting his head up. His gaze flickered from the other man’s nose to his hairline in the usual avoidance of eye contact. He tried to conceal his discomfort at both the gesture and the fingers now twisting lightly through his loose, dark curls.

“Doctor Lecter…” Will dropped his eyes again, clearly discomforted by the intensity of the other’s gaze.

Will started at the first touch of lips, firm but still gentle. He raised his hands to the other’s broad shoulders hesitated from attempting to push him away.

Triumphantly, Hannibal deepened the kiss, pressing his body against Will’s slighter frame and pinning him to the ladder. Hannibal’s hands ran down the lean back to settle on narrow hips.

The passion and hunger was something Will would never have imagined the refined almost asexual doctor. He gasped drew lower to grasp his ass. At the same time a knee slid between his legs, pushing them apart. He drew back from the kiss and attempted to push back against the taller man’s shoulders. Obliviously Hannibal caught hold of both of Will’s wrists, holding them against the rug above their heads and turned his attention to laying kisses along his neck. The other hand shifted to Will’s belt buckle.

“Doctor Lecter!”

He paused at the note of desperation in Will’s voice. Hannibal released his hold, masking his reluctance with embarrassment. The other man stared at the carpet an inch in front of Hannibal’s shoes, not even attempting eye contact semblance.

“I should go.”

Hannibal remaining standing by the ladder, staring at the door long after it clicked shut and did nothing to discourage his uncomfortable erection. it would have been all too easy to simply restrain Will’s hands more securely and fuck him right there, two feet from the spot where Tobias Budge had died. But no, his rash enough actions may have triggered the possibility for complications but he was confident in his own abilities to control the results in his favour.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :) 
> 
> I was delighted and touched with the amount of friendly response I received last time and was motivated by that (and the incredible amount of mixed feels from Dolce!!! OMG!!) to keep going. This chapter was a lot harder to write than I'd thought which is why it's out a week late than I'd meant to but I hope it's worth it. <3

 

Will watched his phone on the kitchen counter from across the room as it vibrated and began to ring.There was always the chance it was Jack with another crime scene regardless of the hour. He smirked at the ironic realisation that reconstructing yet another murder was the preferable alternative to the conversation he would unavoidably have to have with Lecter.

Reluctantly he stood and crossed to the kitchen to pick it up, biting his lip at the caller id. The fifth call from Dr Lecter in the last forty-eight hours and second that morning. He was almost tempted to let it go to voicemail again, perhaps blame it on another period of lost time, but couldn’t repress the cringe at such a childish method.

Despite the uncomfortable situation in which they’d met and his initial resistance at the idea of talking to a therapist Will recognised how grateful he was to have Hannibal as a friend. What with the increasing episodes of lost time and hallucinations the man had become on of the only sources of stability he had left. His own earlier insistence to remain professional was enough to bring another embarrassed flush to his cheeks. 

“Hello?” 

“Good morning Will. I hope this isn’t an imposition?”

“No, you’re not imposing,” Will replied quickly, still unsure what he wanted to say to the man about the day before. “Sorry I didn’t answer before, must have-”

“Please Will, you have nothing to apologise for.” Will’s lip curled guiltily at the words.

“I believe I’m getting sidetracked from my original point. By a remarkable coincidence a former colleague of mine contacted me last night. He is now an attending neurologist at John Hopkins and offered to see you this evening.”

"That’s very kind of you but…”

“Doctor Sutcliffe assured me it was no problem for him to stay back after office hours and do the MRI himself. I merely wish to know the results as soon as possible particularly if they confirm what we feared; otherwise the wait may be several weeks.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lecter, and I do appreciate the consideration.” When had he become so dependant, Will wondered vaguely. Would him even have found Doctor Lecter’s consulting with another doctor on such a personal matter invasive if it had been just a few days earlier?

“As I have said before, I care about your wellbeing. I will inform you of the time later. Goodbye, Will.”

The phone cut off. Will sank onto one of the kitchen stools, running a hand over his lidded eyes. He marvelled at how calm and composed the other man had remained, not even broaching the subject of kissing him or Will’s own startled rejection. Even after knowing each other over three months he still knew next to nothing about the other man’s personal life, after all that the not-quite-therapy sessions were hardly the appropriate place to ask.

A cultured, charismatic and intelligent psychiatrist who lived alone and, to his knowledge, had never married or had children of his own. While surely he had outlets for his needs and interests like anyone else but somehow human and, sometimes messy things, such as romantic attachments and lust seemed to be below him. God, how had he missed something like this?

“No,” Will told himself aloud.

He couldn’t try and reason out something that had given no clear cut signs. It was more important to concentrate on attempting to repair what damage he’d already caused by pathetically ignoring Hannibal’s attempts to discuss it for two days. That, and the possibility of what he would have to face if his brain scan showed no sign of tumours or any other physical anomalies.

 

It had been almost humourlessly simple to convince Sutcliffe to withhold the test results. The man’s brand of selfish curiosity was easy to manipulate, teasing out the morbid, unethical interest that many people harboured on some level.

Will didn’t speak as Hannibal lead him back to the carpark, too lost in his thoughts to object to the hand on his shoulder. Hannibal allowed the silence to continue as he guided Will to his own car.

Will startled slightly as Hannibal pulled up in his driveway, blinking rapidly as if he’d only just become aware of his surroundings.

“Why are we here?”

“You are in shock and I do not feel you should be alone right now, much less drive.” Hannibal suppressed a smug smirk as the younger man reluctantly followed him inside.

After ushering Will to one of the armchairs in his study he crossed to the small wine cabinet and poured two glasses. Glancing back to ensure Will’s face was still buried in his hands before taking a small paper slip from another draw and scattering the white powder into one glass.

“Thank you,” Will said gratefully accepting the drink and taking a hasty mouthful.

Hannibal seated himself beside him and sipped his own wine. The bottle he’d chosen was full-bodied and ashen enough to mask the bitterness of the sodium amytal.

“While I realise this may not be the opportune moment I am glad to have the opportunity for us to talk.”

“What couldn’t have waited till our next session?” Will replied without looking up. “I have been feeling very discomforted by my actions earlier in the week. Perhaps it would be better to discuss it in a less clinical environment.”

Will’s shoulders visibly tensed at the doctor’s words. “Doctor Lecter,” he paused and drained the last of his glass. “I...I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

Will put down the empty glass and brought his hand to his temple again, the drug starting to take effect.

“You are not at fault here, Will. I allowed my feelings to overcome my logical mind and was foolish enough to believe they may be returned.”

Will blushed and struggled to think of a adequate response. He could feel his hands starting to shake and hurriedly put down the glass. God, he couldn’t have a episode now...

He was dimly aware of the lights flashing out of pace with the chandelier and Doctor Lecter’s voice fading, as if his head was being held underwater...

 

Hannibal watched Will over the rim of his glass, sipping slowly as he waited for the other man’s convulsions to reduce.

Once his movements had calmed to mild twitches Hannibal stood slowly and knelt before Will’s slumped form.

His closed eyes were still flickering like during rem sleep, barely conscious but not attentive. He wouldn’t be able to remember the next few hours.

Standing again Hannibal pulled Will to his feet and hoisted the younger man over his shoulder. Although not much shorter than he was, Will was much slighter in build and light enough to carry.

He deposited Will on the bed unceremoniously and turned on the bedside lamp, crossing to the dressing table and removing his tie and cufflinks.

Hannibal knelt at the foot of the bed to remove Will’s shoes and socks before dragging his hands up Will’s still clothed body. Will remained unresponsive as Hannibal’s calloused hands slowly unbuttoned his shirt, sliding the worn flannel off his shoulders.

Hannibal traced his hands down the pale, toned chest to the narrow hipbones before undoing Will’s belt. Carefully he inserted his thumbs under the waistline and tugged down the jeans and boxers.

Drinking in the image laid out on his bed he undressed quicker than he would usually, allowing his suit pieces to crumble on the floor. He quickly retrieved the little opaque bottle from his bedside table and crawled onto the bedspread to settle between the lithe thighs.

There was a savage grin on his face as Hannibal eagerly pushed Will’s legs wider to admit him and roughly inserted two lubed fingers. Will groaned in response, hips jerking automatically but showing no sign of regaining consciousness.

It had never been his first intention to reduce his toy to this state, hoping that in due course he would have conditioned Will to come to him by choice, but couldn’t help but enjoy the responses to his touch. He wondered, not for the first time, what nightmares and hallucinations played out behind the empath’s eyes that wrecked such havoc on his waking mind?

Withdrawing his fingers Hannibal lined himself up and eased into the quivering body beneath him. As he began to thrust, he buried his face in the hollow of Will’s throat, breathing in the sweat and natural musk. Picking up his pace, he dug his nails perhaps harder than sensible into Will’s hips, leaving shallow crescent shaped groves while blood coiled just below the skin. Even if Will tried to deny what had happened there was no way to remove the marks on his skin besides time.

He slipped from Will’s body and settled on his side, tugging the younger man against him in order to bracket him with his limbs. His last action after shutting off the light was to press a kiss against the back of Will’s neck.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've cherrypicked a few episodes to move the pace along and cause of some very useful dialogue from Rôti and Sorbet in the next chapter. I'll probably update again later this week cause I don't feel like much really happened in this one.
> 
> One of the awkward little scenes I've written in a while (but still kinda fun) Hope you guys enjoy it

 Hannibal inhaled slowly, enjoying the tickle against his nose as he let the breath out again. Underneath the sweat and natural musk of Will’s skin the scent of encephalitis was growing more pronounced, the sweetness taking on an earthiness rather like sautéed shiitake mushrooms glazed with honey.

Despite having spent the majority of his adult life alone the feeling of another body pressed against his own was not unpleasant. For all advances made to their environment humans remained by nature, social creatures and subject to the most basic needs, companionship and satisfaction. The gentle reminder of his own humanity didn’t concern him to the extent that it would have only a few months earlier.

Hannibal’s past relationships were similar to his approach towards social interaction in general, engaging only in minimum amount expected and therefore required of a man of his standing. For several years the most concrete person in his life had been Doctor Du Maurier but despite rumours started by their shared acquaintances in earlier years before Bedielia withdrew from society, they had never been anything but professional.

He understood that many of the emotions, sensations and urges he had sometimes felt during his adolescence were no longer accessible just as any man must learn to put aside childish things, be it bearing responsibility for ones’ actions or discarding the naive concept of good and evil. But affection and a desire for understanding, intimacy and camaraderie were things he had long considered below him and his almost nonexistent emotional and psychical needs.

So many exceptions had had to be made after Will Graham had been pushed into his world.

 

Will eased his eyes open slowly with an involuntary groan at his fully renewed headache and the nauseated feel to his stomach. It took a few moments for him to realise that he had not passed out in his own bed; the room was unfamiliar as was the silky, burgundy sheets and worst of all, he realised with growing dread, he wasn’t alone.

“Oh god,” Will breathed. Was there a single relationship left in his life he hadn’t somehow managed to sabotage and complicate?

Will tried to disentangle himself without waking the other man only to feel the arms around his torso tighten reflexively. He gently pried himself free and scrambled to find his crumbled clothes.

Hannibal watched from under his lashes as Will hurriedly pulled his jeans back on without underwear in the hurry to cover himself.

“Good morning,” he said softly, accent more husky and pronounced, as he sat up in bed and let the sheets sit about his waist.

Will mumbled a barely legible ‘morning’ as he continued to dress.

Hannibal watched him with a small and highly amused smile. He noted how the younger man’s hand moved to the small of his back with a wince as he stooped to pick up his shoes.

“What, um, what happened,” Will stopped and tried again. “I don’t really remember what happened last night; I must have been drunker than I thought.” He only remembered having one glass.

“You were quite distressed after the MRI results and things may have escalated. Impulsive but by no means ill-advised. In my experience, I’ve found that sex is quite a good way to relieve stress."

Will blushed and ducked his head, uncomfortable with the words and the gentle fondness they were spoken in.

He busied himself with patting down his pockets for his phone.

“Here.” Will caught the device Hannibal passed him.

“Jack called you a few minutes ago but I told him you were still sleeping.”

“You could have just let it go to voicemail. What did he want?”

“I didn’t ask but I’m sure he will call back soon,” Hannibal said calmly and patted the bed beside him. “You don’t have to rush off right away.”

“Oh I think I do.” The bitterness came out in his voice stronger than he’d meant but didn’t bother him the way it normally did.

“Will, if I’ve overstepped a boundary here I’m sorry but an extra hour won’t make any difference to the dead.”

“Of all the things you could be explaining or apologising for, saying something like that to my supervisor still is only second on the list, Doctor Lecter.” Will heard the sheets rustle as he left the room, redialing Jack as he hurried down the stairs.

“Nice to hear from you,” Jack said sarcastically after only the second ring.

“I’m sorry, what is it?”

“Gideon escaped this morning while he was being transported to the courthouse. I’ll text you the coordinates.”

“Alright, I just have to pick up my car.”

“Fine.” Jack hung up.

Will startled as a large hand gently placed on his lower back. The hand gently glided to his front as both the older man's arms wrapped around his waist and chest, tugging him back against the broader frame.

“Please don’t. I just can’t deal with this right now.”

Hannibal allowed Will to shrug off his arms but made no attempt to smooth the disappointment and surprising amount of hurt of his face.

 

The day passed fairly quickly as each bloody crime scene blurred into the next. Unlike the messy, animalistic murders of the guard, orderly and driver, and the ‘decorative' post mortem disembowelment, the forth was personal.

One of the many psychiatrists that had attempted to explain Gideon through brief interviews and speculated theories, Doctor Carruthers had been humiliated in death. While the final cause may have been blood loss there was no doubt that the man had still been conscious at first as Gideon opened his throat.

“He gave you something better to do with your tongue than wag it.” Will instantly wished he could retract his words at the concerned look from Jack but the other man didn’t comment.

The confirmation that Chilton was missing was no surprise; the ignorant man who’d tormented Gideon and insulted the Chesapeake Ripper in the process warranted a special finale.

_But the Ripper didn’t want to play with amateurs..._ The other voices in the room faded to a distant buzz as Will looked down at the fifth victim, another psychiatrist who’d insulted Gideon. _These flirtations and gifts of organs tied up in bows were only drawing unwanted attention. The Ripper wouldn’t appreciate the extended hand of friendship, insulted by the implication that they were equals.._.

“Gideon didn’t kill this man; the Ripper did.”

“Are you sure, Will?”

“The Ripper sees Gideon as a problem so he’s telling us where to find him. Actually, he’s telling you.”

“Me?” _Why didn’t he see? None of them could see it..._

“Where's the last place you saw a severed arm, Jack?”

 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Jack asked as the rest of the team filed out. “You remember I told you that if there was something I need to know about, you’d tell me. Is there anything at all you need to tell me?”

“No, of course not. Why do ask?”

“Because you look like hell, Will, and I swear I saw you drifting and needing to force yourself back at least three times today even if no one else noticed. So do me a favour, go home and make sure you’re back fine on Monday. Okay?”

Will managed a nod and Jack turned to go.

“Oh and by the way, I don’t want to know about your personal life including why Doctor Lecter answered your phone at seven am this morning. I shouldn't need to remind you inappropriate what you're doing is therefore I don't want to hear anything again."

Will automatically moved his hand to cover a suck bruise on his throat, face blushing again. He wanted to clarify that what had happened really wasn't what Jack had assumed but couldn't bear to bring more attention. 

As much as he’d have liked to just go home his appointment with the man in question was in barely three hours, far too late to cancel the session and downright rude to try and avoid talking to him again. If the poor man had had feelings for him and kept them to himself for however long than Will owed him the chance to talk like adults. His dogs hadn’t been fed since the day before and he didn’t have time to drive out and back again. Fortunately, the backdoor was open and they had enough water to be alright for a few more hours.

Trying to keep from wondering what exactly he was going to say to Lecter, Will went back downstairs to retrieve the photocopied cases files of the Ripper murders from his car, determined to go over everything they already knew and find the link that had been lost with Miriam Lass. Gideon may not have been the Chesapeake Ripper but the Ripper had acted again after two years of silence only a few weeks after Gideon had made the original claim of the identity.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for neglecting this fic so long, it was a little tricky to get back into the s1 'abusive marriage' relationship.
> 
> Just to recap Hannibal is perfectly aware that Will hasn't shown any interest in him romantically and is happily lying and guilt tripping him :)

_“And how is your relationship with Will Graham progressing?”_

_Hannibal raised an eyebrow at Bedelia's choice of words. “I don’t recall indicating that I was interested in more than a possible friendship.”_

_“Perhaps. But do you still believe those words, if they ever were true to begin with?”_

Hannibal considered Bedelia’s words as he put away his half completed sketch, a variation of the Wound Man. After the incident with Miriam Lass it wasn’t wise to leave potential evidence in such plain view. The irony of how close Jack had come to uncovering the same image only a few months back was still amusing.

He respected Bedielia for her assessment of what he allowed her to see and the fascination with violence she barely managed to disguise; something he had only glimpsed in few moments such as the afternoon regarding Neal Frank. Although her altered account of events had been accepted but there had been some doubt among their mutual acquaintances at how exactly a woman of her slight build had overpowered a physically strong, young man without a single injury herself.

_“It's nice when someone sees us, Hannibal. Or has the ability to see us. It requires trust. Trust is difficult for you...You spend a lot of time building walls, Hannibal. It's natural to want to see if someone is clever enough to climb over them.”_

From the fragments Will had shared about his past and the other details he made attempts to avoid Hannibal had begun to piece an idea of his parents together. After all, many of the important factors in human development could be traced to childhood. A fairly ordinary working class couple, a young man starting a traineeship and a girl studying at UNO when they met. Most likely rushed into getting married by parental pressure, so not really surprising that one parent couldn’t cope and left after two years. He expected Graham Sr may have grown, perhaps not intentionally, more conservative after his wife abandoned him and their child. A decent enough father but most likely had struggled in adjusting as a solo parent of such a young child. It was a possible explanation as to some of Will’s awkwardness although Hannibal would never be so crass as to pigeonhole him with flimsy labels thrown around in pop-culture all too often and with no more real value like ‘mummy/daddy issues’.

_“We see the world in different ways, yet he can assume my point of view.”_

He checked his watch again, standing and crossing to the door with a small smile. The next hour would most likely be quite enjoyable. While most of the hurt and other emotional display that morning had been choreographed but the onslaught of shock and disappointment at the empty waiting room was unbidden and completely genuine.

Hannibal returned to his desk and looked up the appointment times again although he knew already there was no mistake. His hand glanced over the phone considering. Will had never shown up late before, or early for that matter; always perfectly punctual, almost a compulsive habit.

There was always the chance he had lost time again… No, he would make himself wait at least a few minutes just in case.

 

Hannibal paused in the doorway to the empty lecture hall regarding the single player tableau.

Will sat motionlessly at the desk, the poor light of the lamp casting a shadow across his for once worry free face.

So often he’d wondered what demons and others lurked in that incredible mind, what images played behind Will’s eyelids in moments of lost time and decreasing hours of sleep. After several moments Hannibal stepped slowly over the threshold leaving the overhead lights turned off. The dim light and single, poorly placed security camera (after all, it was only a classroom) gave a comfortable sense of privacy in plain sight.

“Will?” Hannibal gently shook the younger man’s shoulder. “Will?”

“Dr Lecter? What are you…?”

“I have a 24 hour cancelation policy regardless of our personal situation.” He brushed off Will’s apology and approached the table to examine the photos strewn across it’s surface. “I can see why you’re concerned about nightmares,” he said recalling an earlier comment.

“What do you see, doctor?” Will asked, standing and gesturing to the crime scene photos. “I could really use a fresh opinion right now.”

“Sum up the Ripper in so many words?”

“Choose them wisely.”

“Oh, I always do,” Hannibal replied, rifling slowly looking for the specific victim he wished to discuss. “Words are living things; they have personality, point of view, agenda.”

“Pack hunters.”

“Displaying one's enemy after death has its appeal in many cultures,” Hannibal offered, allowing trace of projected discomfort to override the genuine curiosity in his voice. It was always enjoyable to hear the younger man’s insight on his own motives and actions even if he remained largely unaware of those directly related to him.

“No, these aren't the Ripper's enemies,” Will countered raising a hand to his temple tiredly. “These are pests he's swatted.Their…reward for undignified behaviour.”

“Takes their organs away because, in his mind, they don't deserve them.

“Basically.” Will flinched as the other brushed against his shoulder.

“What's this?” The doctor reached around the other to pick up a slip showing Miriam Lass’s severed arm. Will told him, shifting minutely in discomfort at the proximity.

“She wasn’t like the other victims. The Ripper had no reason to humiliate her but he took an opportunity to humiliate Jack.”

“It seems Jack cared for her more than he should have and feels responsible for her death. Since he accepted that Gideon was not the Ripper has Jack decided Gideon is the key to finding the other?”

Will edged further down the table, picking up his abandoned coffee as an excuse and taking a drink before answering. “Jack’s obsessed with the Ripper and thanks to whatever Chilton did to him so is Gideon. I imagine Abel Gideon would want to find the Chesapeake Ripper to gauge who he is. And who he isn’t.” He didn’t hear the quiet footsteps, flinching again as arms wrapped around him from behind.

“And you are still concerned about how much you understand that. Will, you have me as your gauge. If you cannot trust yourself in this matter then trust in me.”

“What are you doing?” Despite his obvious discomfort Will didn’t try to remove his arms.

“It’s late,” Hannibal said softly, still pressed against him. “You shouldn't drive all the way back to Wolf Trap tonight.”

Wordlessly, Hannibal reached around to take Will’s hand and bring it to his mouth, licking up the lukewarm coffee from the overturned cup.

“Please, just don’t. Do you honestly think we’re suddenly dating?” He was far too tired to feel angry as he had that morning, the absence leaving him just feeling guilty. “I don’t know what I may have said and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea but I’m not actually… into men.”

Rather than look up at Doctor Lecter Will kept his eyes cast down, the other’s hands still clasped around his own. Although not as unsettling and informative as eyes a person’s hands could be used to make a few conclusions about their lifestyle and experiences. Tanned and slightly calloused, unlike the man’s otherwise immaculate appearance. The capable hands of a surgeon, equally dexterous with a pencil as a scalpel.

_Gently prying his own hands from Abigail’s cut throat to clamp over the wound. Performing flawlessly on Devon Silvestri’s donor after seven years outside of medicine. Seven years…_

“Perhaps the Ripper is looking for the same kind of understanding and acceptance that Gideon is seeking.”

Hannibal wished he could have seen the shift in Will’s face coupled with the increased heartbeat he could feel against his own chest as the other man’s hand reached towards the holster on his hip. He wondered which exact detail it was that let Will draw the connection, whether he was aware of it. That beautiful overactive imagination that would have been questionable at best if he had not been wrong to date.

For all his planning Hannibal had not prepared for Will to piece together the fragments he’d been permitted to see. Still to soon to move forward with his original plans and no guarantee that Sutcliffe would stay quiet for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any part of this came off as insensitive ( e.g. Hannibal basically trying to convince Will he's gay or bi for his own amusement) it's not on purpose. 
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated :)
> 
>  
> 
> P.s As this story has been left uncompleted for as long as it has I am currently looking for a beta reader to look over the final chapter before I post it. If you are interested or know someone please let me know below or find me on Tumblr :)


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